Maybe It's Because
by OreoLine00
Summary: I don’t know exactly when I realized that I liked Cedric Diggory. More importantly, I don’t know exactly what caused me to like Cedric Diggory in the first place. ONE SHOT. Katie Bell tries to figure out what sparked her crush on a certain Hufflepuff boy.


I've never written Katie/Cedric before. Actually, come to think of it, I don't think I've ever _read _any Katie/Cedric, either. I really like Katie with anyone who she isn't normally with, like Oliver or Lee. While K/O and K/L are great (the first Katie story I ever read was K/O), I'm sure she would like some variety in her life. So enjoy this one…

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story if you've heard their name before. Instead, they belong to the beautiful Mrs. J.K. Rowling, who I think we can all agree is one of the most amazing people in the world.

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-Maybe It's Because…-

I don't know exactly when I realized that I liked Cedric Diggory. More importantly, I don't know exactly what caused me to like Cedric Diggory in the first place. Not that there is any reason to dislike him or anything. He doesn't have horrible, warped teeth like Marcus Flint. He doesn't have awkwardly long limbs like Phineas Gemstone, the Ravenclaw who is always bumping elbows with me in History of Magic because his freakishly long arms are too big for the table we were forced to share.

In fact, Cedric Diggory is rather handsome. I've always noticed how tall he is- a good seven or eight inches taller than me, so I literally look up to him. He's got these gray eyes that, whenever you're talking to him, make you feel like he's really listening to you. I don't know if he really is, but it certainly feels that way. I read somewhere that people with gray eyes are supposed patient, reserved, and smart. Sounds like Cedric to me… He keeps his brown hair short, but every couple of months, before he gets it cut, it'll fall over his eyes a bit and he'll always be blowing it out of his line of vision.

Yes, Cedric Diggory is very handsome indeed, but that's not why I like him. There are tons of good-looking boys at Hogwarts, like Roger Davies or, dare I even say it, Charlie Montague, but you don't see me liking them.

Maybe it's because he's always been nice to me. During my second year, when I had expressed an interest for trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Cedric stood up for me when Adrian Pucey went on and on about how girls couldn't play Quidditch.

"Oh, shut up, Pucey," he said, being the noble Hufflepuff he is. "She could probably fly _circles _around you. Though I suppose that's not saying much seeing as how you look like an elephant trying to ride a tricycle when you're in the air." Pucey just gave him a vulgar look before storming away. "Don't listen to him," Cedric said to me. "He's not even that good. I'm Cedric, by the way."

That was the first time that I had ever met him, and from that moment on I knew that I had a friend in the hero of a Hufflepuff that was Cedric Diggory.

Maybe I like him because of how modest he is. He's a wonderful Seeker, and the whole school knows it, but he doesn't let it affect him, He could take full advantage of the treatment that us Quidditch players get at Hogwarts, but he doesn't. The teachers, excluding Snape of course, will always go lightly on us if we have a match over the weekend, and sometimes even excuse us from whatever is due. Cedric _always _does the assignment. He probably even turns it in early and gets extra credit.

I'm not the only one who thinks he's good looking. I guess you could say that Cedric Diggory has his own personal fan club. Girls flock to see him walk from class to class. You always know when he enters the Great Hall for a meal because the sound of silverware hitting the table can be heard throughout the entire hall. Girls, especially the first, second, third, and fourth years, practically drool over him, and he knows it. He could take complete advantage over that, too, and have any girl in Hogwarts he chooses, but instead he pretends he doesn't notice.

I asked him about it once. We were in the library one night during my sixth year. I was studying for Potions and he was looking over his Quidditch play book, when a group of three or four of third year Ravenclaw girls came over to our table, full of giggles.

"Hi Cedric," they said simultaneously, which kind of creeped me out a little. They looked at him with their big, hopeful eyes, silently praying to every god in the universe that he would realize that they were the love of his life, and he couldn't go on any more without declaring his undying love.

"Um, hi," he replied more as a question than an actual statement, which was followed by the inevitable 'oh-my-Merlin-he-spoke-to-me!!!' sigh from the girls. With a few words of small talk, and some possible drooling from the girls, they eventually left, practically squealing as they left the library. After watching them leave, I couldn't help but start cracking up. Cedric tried to ignore me by keeping his eyes on his book, but I guess my laughing got to him because he said simply, not taking his eyes off of the book he had in front of him, "You know Katie, I don't see what's so funny."

That was all I needed. "What's so funny?" I said, finally able to control me laughter. I took his playbook, closed it, and slid it across the table so he was forced to look at me. "Cedric, _that _was funny. Those girls were funny. You fan club is funny."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, reaching across the table towards his precious playbook. I beat him too it and set it on the chair next to me. I gave him a 'this-conversation-isn't-over' look and he sighed. "Okay, so yeah, there are a few girls that follow me around…"

"A few girls?" I said. "Ced, it's more than a few. It's like… half of Hogwarts' female population. They adore you. They'd do anything to be sitting here with you right now."

"And you think I _like_ that?" he said, I guess finally admitting to his… groupies. "It's awkward. It's weird knowing that when my team is playing Slytherin, there's a _Slytherin_ girl with my name painted on her face. To be honest with you, it's kind of annoying, actually, and as mean as it sounds, I kind of wish they would all just go away. I mean, I don't see why the pick _me_ of all people at Hogwarts. Why not Davies? Why not the Weasleys? It's like I'm Oliver Wood, or something."

Yes, modest he is. You can still see how uncomfortable he gets when he's surrounded by all his fans, which never seem to get tired of him.

I could like him because of his Quidditch skills, and believe me; he's got a lot of them. The first time I ever saw him fly was when I was watching a game between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. We had played the previous day and had beaten Slytherin, so we were all in a good mood. I remember watching him zip around the pitch, chasing after the snitch like his life depended on it, until eventually he just stuck his hand out and grabbed it like the stupid gold ball was waiting for him. He made it look so easy- like anyone could just go and pluck a spazzing little thing out of the air like it was nothing.

He knew a lot about the game, too, and not just about being a Seeker. One day after one of my practices I had stayed at the pitch because I was having trouble making some shots. He had scared the daylights out of me when I heard him from out of nowhere.

"You're bringing your arm back too far," he yelled up to me as he walked across the pitch, his broom slung effortlessly over his shoulder. It was windy, and he hadn't had a haircut in a while, so his hair was flopping in his face again.

"What?" I yelled back down to him. I had heard him, but I wanted to make sure that I heard him right.

"I said you're bringing your arm back too far," he repeated himself. He had sat down on the cold grass of the pitch and was pulling on his Quidditch gloves. "That's why you're missing all those shots. And the ones that you _are_ making are barely going in."

"And what exactly do you know about being a Chaser, Mr. I Romp Around After A Little Tin Golf Ball?" I asked, coming down from the air. I set my broom down on the grass and walked over to him. I was getting really frustrated with missing these stupid goals that help from anyone was the last thing I wanted. I just wanted to figure it out on my own.

"I know more than you may think," he said, pulling on his last glove and standing up. He brushed the grass and dirt off of his pants. "I know that at the angle you're shooting at, you need to release the Quaffle at the right time, and the right time isn't the way you're doing it.

"And what makes you think that's the problem?" I challenged. Deep down I knew he was probably right, but I didn't want to tell him that.

"Most of the shots you're missing, you're missing them about six or seven inches above the hoop. You're bringing your throwing arm back too far, which is making the Quaffle come out of your hand weird. You can probably feel the ball rolling right off the tips of your fingers, right?" I nodded, wondering how he knew this. "Well since your arm is back so far, when the ball is rolling off your fingers it's coming off too late, which is making it go too high. Try releasing when your arm is right about here." He demonstrated the way he thought I should be doing it.

"And you really think that's going to work?" I asked, giving him a skeptical look. He nodded enthusiastically and picked up his broom. He walked over to the base of the hoops, where I had left my Quaffle, and picked it up.

"Come on," he said, tossing the maroon ball to me. "Try it your way and then try it my way. See if it makes a difference." He hopped on his broom and effortlessly floated up next to the hoops. I rolled my eyes, not really wanting to do it, but I did anyway. I reluctantly took my place in the air in front of the hoops. "Go ahead," Cedric said encouragingly.

The wind was picking up, and if I didn't make the shots, both my way and his, I could always just blame it on the weather. I spun the Quaffle in my hands before firing, or at least attempting to fire it through the tallest of the three golden hoops. It sailed just inches over the top and then descended towards the hard ground. Cedric scooped it up before it hit the ground and tossed it back to me.

I was beginning to get embarrassed. There I was, not able to make a shot that before that week I would have been able to make perfectly, in front of one of Hogwarts' best Quidditch players. I spun the ball again and shot, this time the way that Cedric had suggested. The Quaffle sailed through the hoop with ease and Cedric smiled.

"See!" he said, looking proud of himself. "Try it again." And I did. Over and over and over again, each time the ball flying trough the hoop like it was programmed to do so.

"Cedric Diggory, you are a genius!" I said once it began to get dark. We both coasted down to the ground and gathered up our things. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Don't worry about it," he shrugged, blowing that same piece of hair away from his face. "I'm just glad that I could help. Just forget everything I just taught you once you play Hufflepuff, though, because I might have just ruined our chances at the Cup."

Yes, Cedric Diggory does indeed have skills when it comes to Quidditch.

Maybe it's a combination of all these things. Maybe it's because he doesn't think twice about holding the door for someone, no matter who it is. Maybe it's because of that cute, confused look he gets when he's not too sure of an answer in Potions. Maybe it's because of the way he smiles for no apparent reason. Maybe it's because he still gives me the time of day when he pretends he doesn't even notice everyone else looking at him.

I don't know exactly when I realized that I liked Cedric Diggory, but I guess I _do_ know why I like him after all…

-The End-

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**Ta da! The end!**

**It didn't really turn out the way I wanted it to, and not as good as I hoped it would be, but it's not horrible, at least.**

**Please review! Constructive criticism is certainly welcome and appreciated. **

**Thaaaaaanks!**


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